Memories of the King
by Ravyn Song
Summary: In his final moments Arthur remembers his life, the good times and the bad. Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin, sadly.


** Merlin was gone. Arthur stood in front of the funeral pyre, the ashes still smoldering. He stood alone in the darkness, he had dismissed the others hours ago, wanting a few last words with his friend.  
"Why?" Arthur stood staring at the ashes waiting, expecting the young man too come up behind him with that quirky laugh and tell him that this conversation wasn't going anywhere or something idiotic like that, "You can't be dead Merlin, you can't leave me like this," Arthur wiped a tear from his eye hoping that wherever he was his friend hadn't seen him, "I hope you know that-" He was about too scold Merlin for making Guinevere cry but then decide that this probably wasn't the right time, "No, nevermind. Please, Merlin, come back," Nothing happened, "I'm not going too say goodbye, not yet, or I'm sorry for throwing things at you or calling you an idiot or-" He could have sworn he heard a laugh, "But I will say this: I miss you, and I won't forget."**

Arthur snapped back to the present where he lay on his back staring into the gray sky. The day? Well he wasn't quite sure they'd been fighting for weeks, but the real battle had begun years ago...

"He shall be called Mordred," Morgause said holding her new baby boy, rocking him softly, "And he shall be the death of Arthur Pendragon," The babe stared up into his mother's deep brown eye's, but his eye's were a light shade of blue, the color of the sea standing at the feet of the oncoming storm.

This memory stung, that his own son was the one to have dealt him that fatal blow, but he felt no hatred for his murderer, only sadness and guilt. He began to fall back into darkness, "No," he told himself, he had to wait, but he couldn't and slowly his eyes closed...

"But I can't live without you," She beamed at him and fell into his arms and nestled her head into his shoulder. He rested his head on hers and closed his eyes, then he lifted her head and kissed her, the sweetest kiss either of them would ever share. For Arthur it seemed as though time was frozen holding them in the moment just as he held her in his arms...

Another vision creeped into his head and slowly the scene changed...

He walked off the field, in his arms was a body rapped caringly in his red cloak, tears were streaming down the young kings cheeks. Arthur couldn't go any farther, he dropped to his knees, still clutching the body to his chest not willing to drop it however much his aching body begged him too. He uncovered the face of the dying warrior, revealing a pale boy with hair the color of the midnight sky and his eyes still barely open, just showing the power that hid behind them, "Arthur," said the boy fighting the hands of death that were slowly lifting him from his friends arms.  
"I'm here Merlin," said Arthur, trying to steady his voice.  
"Hmmmm."  
"Merlin!" Arthur shook his friend.  
"I'm tired," Merlin said waking up again.  
"No Merlin, not now," Arthur finally managed to stop the tears finding strength anew.  
"Arthur, please, you have to let me go, I've done my work but Albion still needs you," Merlin's eye's closed again.  
"Merlin you can't do this!"  
"I can see it, Arthur, I can see Albion. It's so beautiful."  
"Please, you can't leave me," Arthur pleaded.  
"I believe in you Arthur, never, never," Merlin was crying but he was smiling, "forget."  
"I won't," he cried.  
"This is not the end, you're the Once and Future King," his voice was growing softer, "Until we meet again," And then he went limp and exhaled his last breath, looking so peaceful, like a sleeping child.  
"Until we meet again," Arthur stood up and began walking back too the battle field to where he knew she would be waiting for him, waiting too fight, Vivienne would die for what she had done.

Arthur opened his eyes again, "I'm coming Merlin."

He remembered her screaming, the woman he loved leaving him, running from the palace, he watched from his bedroom window as she rode away, through the gates and out of sight. Later on he got word that she had entered a nunnery, 'paying for her sins' as she put it, and then later a note that she had died, another friend, dead.

Once again Arthur was lying flat on his back, by a lake, the lake where he would die, he lifted his head and looked round him, his knights were scattered about the shore, or at least what remained of them...

The first to go was Lancelot, taking his own life, or as Merlin later pointed out he had really died when he stepped through the vale. Then it was Gwaine, fun loving, care free Gwaine. God, why hadn't he listened to Gwaine, he had come back to Arthur the day before this bloody war began, telling him not too fight, but had he listened? And the rest? The rest lay around him, dead and dying.

"Arthur," a sweet voice broke through his thoughts, "Come with me," He opened his eyes too see his sister, standing over him with an outstretched hand.  
"Morgana?"  
His sister, the woman who had wanted him dead for so many years, had come to take him away, his salvation. He closed his eyes again trying to remember...

They were so little, so innocent.  
"I told you I could beat you!" said Morgana laughing, she reached her hand down to her brother who was lying in the mud.  
"No thanks," said Arthur, pushing her hand away, glaring.  
"Oh, come on, Arthur, I've beaten you, hundreds of times, I thought you'd be used to it by now!" She smiled at the knights who had gathered around her and the young prince.  
Arthur looked back up at her, she held her hand out again. This time Arthur took it and pulled her down alongside him, the knights laughed as there prince grabbed a handful of mud and through it at Morgana. In return, Morgana tackled Arthur, shoving his whole head into the mud, Arthur came up spitting up dirt.  
"Arthur!" A stern voice said. The king came pushing through the circle of knights, pulling his son up out of the mud, then turning to his ward who smiled sweetly beside her partner in crime.

"You made me eat mud," said Arthur. That was the Morgana he used to know before, everything went bad...

There she was, sitting on the throne of Camelot, with that smirk, (which she'd come to master over the last few years).  
"Hello dear brother," She said, standing up to face Arthur.  
"What happened Morgana?" Arthur didn't say what he was really thinking, 'Where was the girl that he loved so much, the sister he'd die for without a second thought, that reckless first love that made him feel dizzy.'' Arthur sighed looking into the face of his friend long gone, the face that had once been so kind and caring, but was now cold as stone, 'Where was the girl in that beautiful silk dress, the one that welcomed him home from a hunt with a small hug and, a comment along the lines of "I could have done better," The one that would sacrifice herself for that of a peasant,' He looked at the vengeful young woman before him, clad in black, killing the innocent, 'She's gone,' He told himself.

"That's right," Said Morgana, not a moment having passed for her since Arthur last woke, "Now come, the boat's waiting, and the ferryman is growing impatient," she laughed. Arthur stood up but he was far too weak, Morgana took his arm and gently pulled him close, "Here, you can lie down in the boat. I thought you'd be tired so I made you a bed so you could rest until we get there."  
"What about him?" He asked pointing to the shore where Mordred, his son, lay dying.  
"He isn't worthy of where I'm taking you," said Morgana, her tone suddenly became very serious.  
"No," Arthur said trying to sit up, "I may have killed him but I refuse to leave him behind."  
Morgana gave him a look that told Arthur that she didn't like it but she'd agree. She stepped lightly from the boat and waded back to the shore, her dark cloak billowing out around her. She knelt down beside Mordred who was hurt far worse than Arthur, with a sword through his chest. She unfastened her cloak and wrapped her dying nephew up, like a child. Hoisting him into her arms she walked back to the boat and placed him gently beside his father, then stepped aboard herself.  
"My mother... My mother used to rock me... like this when I was a babe, when, when she sung me to sleep," Mordred muttered as they began to sail through the mist covered lake.  
Arthur couldn't help but heave his sons head on to his chest and stroke his wet hair softly, "My Mordred, my dear Mordred," and lightly kissed his forehead as his son fell back asleep. Arthur followed suit

When he woke he was lying in a white, sparkling room, covered in silk sheets, his wounds were healed and felt as though they had never been. Slowly he sat up, "I must be dreaming," said Arthur looking around.  
"It is no dream, dear brother, this is Avalon," Morgana smiled down at him, "Oh Arthur, you must see!"  
"See what?" Her brother asked rubbing the sleep from his eyes.  
"Everything! It's beautiful, the sun falls softly like moonlight, and the roses are always in bloom. First though, you must meet someone," she said, standing.  
"Is Mordred alright?"  
"He's fine, my brother, still sleeping though, best to let him rest. Now come!" She pulled him out of the room and out into a courtyard made of nothing but vines and littered with flowers. It smelled so sweet, it reminded Arthur of Guinevere. Morgana slowed slightly letting him take in the sight, then kept running dragging her drowsy brother along. When she finally stopped they were in another courtyard, this one made of shimmering white marble, with a crystal spring in the middle. Sitting on the edge of the spring was his Guinevere, wearing a flowing white dress much like the one that his sister wore. Guinevere turned smiling. Arthur was so taken over by this sight that he hardly realized his knights standing behind her. He ran to his wife embracing her, with the thought in his mind that he would never let her go. He looked up seeing his knights running forward too join in on the hug. No longer were they wearing their bloodied chainmail, each were dressed in long white tunics and brown leggings, all barefoot. When he finally made it out of the swarm of friends Arthur realized what had been bothering him, even in the comforting embraces of his friend's.  
He wasn't there?  
Arthur turned to Morgana, "Where's Merlin?"  
Morgana laughed and nodded behind him.  
Arthur spun around to see his friend walking through the arched door, He was also wearing a white tunic but he wore loose white trousers and had a white blanket draped across his shoulders, (no neckerchief, Arthur noticed).  
"Late like usual Merlin?" Arthur called to him.  
There was that smile that Arthur had been longing for since the day that boy had died in his arms. Arthur ran to him and did the last thing Arthur ever expected himself to do and hugged his friend so tightly that Merlin later told him that he thought he was going to die in his arms once more.  
One last person came walking through the door.  
Merlin and Arthur turned to face the newcomer.  
"Mordred," Merlin whispered.  
Mordred stood there, shuffling his feet awkwardly, like he wasn't quite sure he should be there. Arthur thought he should though and welcomed his son with a kind smile.  
And now we wait, thought Merlin.


End file.
